APOLOGY TO NONE
When I am introduced as a teacher, I
am usually asked what I teach. When I say, "first grade", I generally
hear a very flat "oh". I have never been certain whether it is an
expression of pity, sympathy, disgust, or perhaps disinterest. Always, I wish I
had the time to explain to them like this: YES, I teach first grade.
WHERE ELSE would a handsome young
man put his arms around me and ask "Do you know that I'll always remember
and love you?"
WHERE ELSE could I tie so many hair
ribbons and belts and daily get to see a style show of pretty dresses and
shirts?
WHERE ELSE could I walk up and down
aisles and have little warm hands reach out to me?
WHERE ELSE could I have the
privilege of wiggling loose teeth and receive the promise that I may pull them
when they are loose enough and sometimes I do.
WHERE ELSE would I eat a spoiled
piece of candy from a grimy little hand and not become ill? (I have to eat it
because he watches me to see that I do!)
WHERE ELSE would the future look so bright as it does amid an energetic group to whom nothing
is impossible?
WHERE ELSE could I guide the first
letter formations of a chubby little hand that may some day write a book or an
important document?
WHERE ELSE could I forget my own
aches and pains because of so many cut fingers, scratched knees, bumped heads and broken hearts that
need care?
WHERE ELSE could I forget cares and
even "the state of the nation" because Stevie
isn't grasping
WHERE ELSE would my mind have to
stay so young as with a group whose attention span is
so short that I must always keep a "bag of tricks" up my sleeve?
WHERE ELSE could I feel so close to
my MAKER as I do each year when, because of something I've done, little
children learn to read?
YES, I teach first grade, Mr. and
Mrs.
-Author Unknown
